Best Mates
by potterheadjazz
Summary: Drarry in which Draco is a vampire who saved Harry's life from certain death with Lord Voldemort. Harry feels he know owes him a life debt and can think of only one good way of repaying it. Warnings: Smut, Top!Draco, bit of bondage, possessiveness and rough angry Drarry sex. Not for the faint of heart!
1. Chapter 1

Harry blinked as he woke up.

His vision was blurred without his glasses, but he'd seen that ceiling enough times in his time at Hogwarts to know he was in the hospital wing.

"He's awake!" a familiar voice said, and when Harry looked up he could make out a bushy-topped blur that was Hermione.

Reaching to the bedside table, he picked up his glasses and slipped them onto his face. Instantly, everything shifted into focus. He could see Hermione and Ron and Ginny, as well as Professor Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey at the foot of his bed.

"Wh-what happened?" Harry croaked. "Why am I here? Did I fall off my broom again?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer, a look of pure rage on his face. Dumbledore cut across him before he could speak.

"Maybe Mr Malfoy is the best person to explain this to you," he waved a hand to the side of the bed, and Harry turned his head, confused. Sure enough, a very distraught looking Draco Malfoy was sitting in a chair beside Harry's hospital bed. His knuckles were white with gripping the arms of the chair too tightly and his hair stuck up as if he'd been running his hands through it. His usually pin-neat clothes were untidy and unkempt; his school tie was loose, his black robes in a dishevelled heap on the floor, his white shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Where his left forearm had borne the Dark Mark for the last twelve months, it was now blank and red raw, as if the flesh had been scrubbed with vigour.

"Wh-what happened?" Harry asked again, addressing the question at Draco this time. Draco shook his head, evidently unable to find words. Madame Pomfrey spoke up for him.

"Mr Malfoy saved your life, Potter," she informed him, in the brisk way she always spoke. "You're incredibly lucky he got you here when he did."

"Y-you saved my life?" Harry sounded disbelieving.

"I'd rather not explain in front of people," Draco's voice wasn't like it usually was, arrogant and pompous. It was rough and wet and cracked, as if he'd been crying. Dumbledore was the first to take the hint, and he got to his feet, leaving the hospital wing and silently ushering the others to do the same.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked, delicately.

"Do I bloody look okay?" Draco snapped. Then he sighed. "I'm better off than you are, at any rate. Do you not remember a thing of what happened?"

"I… I remember being in a room full of Death Eaters. I remember kneeling on the floor, not being able to move," Harry sniffed. "And I remember Voldemort being there. I-I remember you being there. And then he told you do something and you came and you knelt in front of me and you were crying and you said you were sorry and then… and then I can't remember."

"Do you read the Prophet over summer, Potter?" Draco asked. Harry nodded once. "So you know what happened to me around a month ago? How I was bitten on a raid the vampires carried out on my father's office? Well… Voldemort wanted me to… I don't know. Drink enough of your blood to totally immobilise you, I suppose. Make you an easier target for him. Except I couldn't. I don't know why, but I couldn't do it and I just sort of… at the last minute I apparated the fuck out of there and we were in the middle of some woods somewhere and I didn't know what to do so I just walked and we eventually ended up at school. You've been unconscious for a week."

"Oh," Harry swallowed.

"That's not all," Draco confessed. "I think I… I might have… by accident, like… but I might have sort of… well… _claimed _you."

"You… you what?" Harry sniffed.

"Come on, Potter, you've learned about Vampires. Don't make me go into it," Draco sighed.

"Well why did you… I don't…" Harry said.

"Look I didn't do it on purpose, Potter, and I don't like it any more than you do," Draco told him. "If it's any consolation, you don't have to do anything."

"What d'you mean?" Harry was confused. Draco buried his head in his hands.

"Look, when a Vampire claims a… a mate… they can never be with another person. Like ever. I'll just get more and more obsessed with you until my body realises it's being rejected. Then it'll lose interest in being alive anymore. I'll die, eventually, but don't worry. It won't affect you. It's unfair, I suppose. If you die, I do too. If I die, you carry on life as normal. Still. It doesn't matter. It's just gonna save me a lot of schoolwork, right?"

"What… what does being a mate entail?" Harry asked.

"I… I'm not sure," Draco didn't look up. "I know a Vampire has to feed from their mate. And they form this… this bond. It hurts if anyone else touches their mate. Physically hurts. But other than that, I don't really know."

"The biting… is it… does it hurt?" Harry asked, crossing his legs underneath him.

"A bit. You get used to it," Draco sighed.

"D'you promise not to try and change me?" Harry said, softly.

"What?" Draco's head snapped up. "You can't be serious, Potter!"

"Of course I am," Harry said, gently. "You saved my life, I can't very well sit back and watch you die, can I? I owe you one."

"I… well…" Draco said. "Look, Potter. I get that you're Harry Potter and you're the noble Griffyndor and you have to do the right thing and all, but I don't want you to feel obligated to do this. I don't mind if you say no."

"But I _do. _I've said yes," Harry informed him.

"Well… the sleeping arrangements will be tricky…" Draco began. As if on cue, Professor Dumbledore swept back into the hospital wing.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy," he said. "I'm glad you're still here. A bed in your room has been arranged for Mr Potter. He'll be joining you as soon as Madame Pomfrey deems him well enough."

"Your _room_?" Harry said, confused that Dumbledore hadn't called it the dormitory.

"I'm a social pariah now, Potter," Draco sighed heavily. "The people who don't hate me for being a vampire are the ones who hate me for saving your arse. I sleep in that old prefect's bedroom on the fifth floor. And… I suppose now you do too."

"Oh," Harry swallowed. "Okay. Cool."

"I suppose I should go," Draco go to his feet. "You'll need your rest. Oh, and Scarhead? This doesn't mean we're friends."

"Absolutely not," Harry agreed, as he watched the blond leave the room.

When he was alone only one thought circulated in his head.

_What the fuck is happening? _


	2. Chapter 2

With a groan, Draco laid his head down on the desk.

In theory, he was supposed to be doing his Potions essay, but in reality he'd given up on it long ago. These feelings he had… he'd never experienced them before. Oh, he knew he'd have to take a mate at some point or other when he was turned, and it wasn't like he'd never entertained Potter as a potential candidate, but he'd never in a million years think it would've actually happened. And especially not like _this. _

With a yell he threw his Potions book across the room. It hit the wall and then the floor with a satisfying _crack-thud! _He sighed. He knew he'd form this bond with Potter when he became his mate but he hadn't really expected it to happen so fast. Groaning he slumped to put his head back on the desk. This wasn't going to be easy. At all.

The door creaked open and Draco looked up. Harry stood in the doorway, a small box of his belongings in his arms. Most of them had been sent down the night before, and all he had were his books from that school day along with a few scrolls of parchment, several quills and some pots of ink.

"Hi," Harry said, with a small, nervous smile.

"Potter," Draco fought not to smile back. "Bed under the windows yours. Bathroom's through that door. There's only one wardrobe but both of our clothes fit. I've hung a divider in the middle."

"Okay," Harry nodded and dumped the box he was carrying on the bed under the window. "Um… d'you want to use the bathroom? Or can I get a shower?"

"Go for it," Draco waved a hand towards the bathroom door. "I'm just going to go to bed."

"Okay. Well… night, then," Harry said, before disappearing into the bathroom. Once he was gone and the door was shut, Draco stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed.

In the bathroom, Harry stepped into the now full bathtub and let the water wash over him, up to his shoulders. He was confused, and could feel that Draco was too. He'd been in the hospital wing for a week, and every day Hermione would bring him books about vampires and their mates. Ron would come too, and sometimes he'd bring Seamus and Dean with him. They'd play card games and paper games and reminisce about past years. Hagrid had visited too, twice. He didn't have the best grasp of what was going on, and maybe that was why he was the one who treated Harry the most normally. On both occasions he'd brought Harry one of his famous rock cakes, which Harry had politely promised he'd eat later, and then discretely disposed of.

And then, every evening, after everyone else had left, Draco would come. They didn't often speak. Indeed, most times Harry had actually pretended to be asleep to avoid an awkward conversation. Draco didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed happier to simply sit and watch him sleep. Once he'd actually crouched at the side of the bed and had placed a gentle hand on Harry's cheek. He'd left it there for a long time before he got up and walked away.

It was unusual that Harry didn't mind being Draco's mate as much as he thought he would've. In one of Hermione's books it had been explained that both the vampire and the mate would feel a certain bond with each other. Apparently as a Legilimens, Harry had a certain advantage with reciprocating the bond. It meant he could feel Draco's emotions just as strongly as Draco could feel his. And right now all he felt was Draco's confusion combining with his own.

Draco watched the door open and Harry emerge from the steamy bathroom. He had to swallow deeply at the sight. From the waist up, Harry was naked, and his skin was still damp and glistening from the bath. There was a smattering of dark hair over his chest and stomach. A line of it ran from his navel to his pubic bone, and Draco let his mind fill in the gaps that were underneath. The checked pyjama pants Harry wore sat low around his hips and pooled round his ankles. His hair was damp and more tangled than usual. All in all, it was a very sexy image.

"Like what you see?" Harry raised one eyebrow and smirked.

"Get over yourself, Potter," Draco forced himself to scowl. He rolled over and stared at the wall until he heard Harry get into bed and his breathing slowed. Then he went to the bathroom, relieved his erection and climbed back into bed and let himself go to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke early, long before Draco.

He looked over at the sleeping blonde and was stricken by the innocent beauty of his companion. In sleep, he looked… somehow younger. The usually tense jaw muscles were relaxed and his mouth hung very slightly open. His eyelashes fanned out he breathed deeply, the duvet over his body rose and fall gently with his every deep breath. He lay on his front, each arm bent upwards at a right angle.

_Like an angel drying his wings, _Harry thought. He couldn't wrench his eyes away from Draco for a good ten or twenty minutes, when the blond began to stir in his sleep, almost as if he was aware Harry was watching him. At that point, Harry thought it best to remove himself from the situation and went into the bathroom.

The hot spray was welcome on his skin, stinging it from porcelain pale to bright scarlet red. He washed fairly quickly, not wanting to be late to see Ron and Hermione at breakfast. Yes, he'd seen them both every day in the Hospital Wing but it hadn't quite been the same as actually spending good quality time with them.

Back in the bedroom, he dressed from the waist down then fumbled in front of the mirror, combing his hair with clumsy but elegant fingers, attempting still to make it lie flat, despite how impossible it had proved in the past. He sighed when the back sat up rebelliously, refusing to stay with the rest of it.

"You know, Potter," Draco sneered behind him. "Polite company _does _usually require a shirt."

"Yeah, Malfoy, you're right," Harry replied through the mirror, one eyebrow raised cynically. "Just a shame I don't have any _polite _company, isn't it?"

"Whatever," Draco sneered. "Can't you get ready a little bit more quietly? I'm trying to sleep here."

"Sleep? Aren't you going to get ready? Breakfast's in half an hour," Harry reminded the blond. Draco frowned and at first Harry expected another sarcastic quip. He was surprised when Draco's pale skin flushed a delicate pink.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to go down for breakfast," he told Harry curtly.

"What? Why?" Harry asked. "You should eat breakfast, it's what gives your energy for the rest of the-" He stopped mid-sentence, mildly amused at how Hermione-like he sounded.

"I've told you already, Potter," Draco pulled his knees up to his chest and suddenly looked sad, vulnerable. It was a shock for Harry. "I'm a social pariah now. Everyone hates me. The outward insults I can deal with – just about. It's the whispering I hate. They all sit and talk about me like I'm not even there. Even… even my old friends. Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy and Astoria and the others. I get the dirtiest looks from them. They all slag me off, I know it. I know I was never really Britain's most loved before but at least there was people who'd put up with me. Now… now even my parents don't want me."

A single tear rolled down Draco's cheek and Harry was taken aghast. For a second, he could do nothing. Then he moved to the foot of Draco's bed and put a cautious hand on Draco's arm.

"I'll sit with you, if you like," he said, gently. "We can sit at the end of the Griffyndor table. Nobody sits down at the end, it'll be just you and me."

"You don't have to do that," Draco shook his head. "I don't need your charity."

"It's not charity," Harry sighed. "I'm trying to repay you for saving my life here. And I've heard enough times from Hermione that I _must _eat breakfast or I won't have enough energy to get me through the morning and I'll be just _exhausted _by lunchtime. I'll feel better if you do eat."

Draco watched him for a while, then sighed.

"Fine," he said. "If it'll get you off my back, I'll come down and sit with you. But I'm not eating."

"Right. Okay," Harry said, feeling that it wasn't a good idea to push the blond further. "Well, I'm just gonna go get a wash, then we'll go down whenever you're ready – okay?"

"Okay," Draco smiled, watching Harry's retreating back. "Hey Po – Harry?"

It was the first time Harry had heard Draco use his first name in all the years they'd known each other. It caught him off guard and he turned to face the blond boy behind him.

"Yeah?" Harry replied, with a half-smile.

"Thank you," Draco grinned widely.

"No problem," Harry returned the smile. And they shared the same thought.

_Maybe this won't be so bad after all. _


End file.
